


mango misery

by surrealmeme



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Baking, Canon Lesbian Relationship, F/F, Human Catra (She-Ra), It's basically nothing, Light Angst, macarons are fucking difficult, rated for some language, truly the tiniest amount of minor brief angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:15:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24908215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealmeme/pseuds/surrealmeme
Summary: “Scorpia, this—this is amazing, oh my god,” Adora said. “Wait, lemme try the other ones.”After practically inhaling two more macarons, Adora looked as if she were about to cry tears of joy.“These are, like, perfect. And they’re macarons! How is that even possible?”Scorpia grinned with a little laugh.“Oh, just some practice. Nothing you can’t do.”Fateful words.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 50





	mango misery

“Macarons?” said Adora.

Scorpia nodded.

“Go on, try one,” she said, holding out a medium-sized Tupperware.

Adora briefly considered the modest selection of flavors: chocolate, earl grey, and lemon. Opting for the latter, Adora picked up a pastry and bit into the crisp shell. The interior texture was perfect—not overly soft or chewy but not entirely hard either. And the lemon curd! Perfect consistency, no bits of unincorporated egg white, just on the tangy side of sour-sweet.

“Scorpia, this—this is _amazing_ , oh my god,” she said. “Wait, lemme try the other ones.”

After practically inhaling two more macarons, Adora looked as if she were about to cry tears of joy.

“These are, like, _perfect_. And they’re macarons! How is that even possible?”

Scorpia grinned with a little laugh.

“Oh, just some practice. Nothing you can’t do.”

Fateful words.

+++

Catra got back from work to see Adora frantically getting ready to go out.

“Adora?” she asked. “What’s going on?”

“Need to go to the store.”

“I went two days ago?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t get almond flour.”

Catra blinked.

“Why in the fresh hell would I ever buy _almond flour?_ Why do _you_ need almond flour?”

“To make macarons.”

Catra was about to again express her bewilderment and incredulity but thought better of it.

“You know what? Just go buy whatever it is you need."

Adora did just that, returning 45 minutes later bearing two packages of almond flour, a large bag of powdered sugar, a concerning amount of white chocolate, and four mangoes. Once they were all spread out on the kitchen counter, Catra finally demanded,

“Why.”

In lieu of a response, Adora opened the fridge and pulled out Scorpia’s macarons.

“Here,” she said, holding out a chocolate one. “Try it.”

As Catra ate, her face made her appreciation clear.

“See?” They’re delicious,” Adora said. “Scorpia made them, and she’s always bringing us so much food, so we’re gonna thank her by making _her_ something for once.”

“First of all, there is no ‘we’ here. _You’re_ the one that chose to do this,” Catra said. “Second, what makes you think macarons are the way to go and not, I dunno, fuckin’ chocolate chip cookies? Y’know, like the beginner baker you are?”

“Scorpia said I’d be able to do it, no problem! All I need is some practice,” Adora said. “Besides, it can’t _really_ be that hard. It’s not like I’m actually gonna _fail_.”

+++

Five hours later, three batches of mango macarons had gone in and out of the oven. The first failed because of a soft meringue and burnt chocolate from not double boiling. The second failed because of an overmixed batter. (Granted, that was Catra’s fault. Bored, she had started stealing batter and rather enthusiastically licking it off her fingers while Adora struggled with the figure eight test. ‘I can _not_ afford to be distracted right now! I’m trying to do the _macronage_ or whatever the fuck it’s called!’) The third failed because Adora, in her fatigue, had forgotten to drop the trays of piped macarons. Every single one cracked.

Adora groaned, leaning back against the counter.

“Why won’t it just _work?”_

Catra bit into a mangled macaron.

“It looks ugly, but tastes pretty damn good,” she said.

“But they’re not _right_ ,” Adora insisted. “They have to be perfect.”

“Why? Scorpia won’t care that they’re not the prettiest macarons she’s seen. Hell, she wouldn’t care even if they tasted off,” Catra said.

Adora sighed.

“I know. But she said that I could do it. And I couldn’t.”

“Adora, I’m willing to bet literal cash money there’s no person who’s ever made perfect macarons in one day,” Catra said. “Besides, they taste good! Scorpia will love them.”

“She’s so nice,” Adora said.

“Exactly. So just stick them in the fridge so they can, uh, mature, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Adora said. “Thanks, Catra. You always know how to make me feel better.”

“Well, being your childhood best friend turned enemy turned girlfriend will do that. I kinda know how you work by now.”

+++

When Scorpia answered the door, her hair was pushed back with a hairband and her clothes covered with an apron.

“Hi, Catra! Adora!” she greeted, leaning in to hug them both. “What’s this?” she said, feeling an object poke her.

“We made macarons, ‘cause you’re always bring us stuff,” Catra said. “Well, Adora made them. I mainly just bothered her.”

“What are you talking about?” protested Adora. “I’d have never finished without you.”

Scorpia accepted the container and picked up a macaron.

“Ooh, is this a white chocolate ganache?”

“Literally _how_ did you know,” Catra said.

“I’m making one right now,” Scorpia answered and popped the macaron into her mouth.

A look of delight came across her face and she soon said,

“This is great! I love the mango flavor and the texture? Wow. The cookies aren’t chewy like a lot of beginner macarons are. I will _definitely_ be finishing these today.”

Adora beamed.

“Maybe you could come over sometime and help me perfect them?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when your little brother makes macarons for the first time and gets upset they're not perfect. And they weren't even bad, like they were solidly decent.


End file.
